Wounds and Memories McHanzo Fanfic
by Waterheart9
Summary: When Hanzo Shimada is greatly wounded in battle, Mccree can't help but recall a special moment with the great archer.


"It's high noon…" Jesse Mccree tipped his cowboy hat and fired his revolver, taking out several military omnics. He grinned to himself in accomplishment, but his job wasn't yet finished. There were still hundreds of enemies he and the rest of his team needed to fight through to reach their objective. Today's mission brought Pharah, Hanzo, Tracer, Ana, Reinhardt, and Mccree himself to a densely-populated street of New York in order to steal important information about nearby Omniums from a control center.

The street had been evacuated ages ago, but the buildings were so tightly jammed together Jesse still had the suffocating feeling of pushing through a tightly-packed crowd. From his point on the roof of a small restaurant, he took a moment to crouch down and evaluate the situation.

Tracer blinked her way through a cluster of enemies, threw her pulse bomb, and recalled in order to get out of the way, giggling as she went. Ana sniped from a skyscraper window nearby. Reinhardt struck his hammer against the ground and swung up, sending a wave of flames toward a group of enemies. Hanzo fired scatter arrows from behind a vehicle that had crashed into a lamp post just below Mccree, and Pharah darted through the skies, firing massive rockets at clusters of foes.

The battle had been going well at first, but as they neared the control center, the team's progress had slowed dramatically and they hadn't moved forward for an agonizing amount of time. If anything, they were being pushed backward. Nothing was working. They were losing this fight.

Mccree reacted to the Omnic sniper too late. It was undetectable at first, it's black military uniform blending in with the shadows of a nearby window. But then it lurched forward, swung its sniper rifle onto the window ledge, and fired a single shot. At that exact moment, Hanzo slid out from his cover below Jesse and pulled his bow back to shoot an unsuspecting attacker that was giving Tracer a hard time.

Jesse watched in horror as the opposing sniper's bullet sliced through the air and drilled into Hanzo's upper abdomen. The archer dropped his bow and clutched the wound, crumpling to his knees and coughing out an inhuman cry. At that moment, Pharah fell out of the sky with a sickening thump a few feet away. She shakily got to her feet, clutching her forehead as blood seeped down her face from an unknown injury. Tracer's Chronal Accelerator sparked and died, leaving her surrounded by enemies with no easy way of escape.

"Retreat!" Reinhardt screamed into the open com. "Get back to the ship!" The team did as he asked. They didn't need to be told twice. As the others ran away, Mccree jumped from his post and rushed to the fallen bowman. He lay on his side now, curling up into a ball and clutching his stomach. Jesse gripped his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Hanzo? Darlin', you need to get up," he insisted, throat tightening with concern. Hanzo curled up tighter and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily. Mccree looked ahead at the approaching enemies and then back at his teammates as they boarded the ship. He didn't have much time left. With a grunt, Jesse wrapped his arms around Hanzo's chest and lifted him up. He placed one hand on the back of his neck and the other under his knees, holding him like a child. Hanzo gave another groan of pain, but did not defy him, just let his arms drop loosely at his sides.

The injured archer grinded his teeth together in attempts to sooth his agony, eventually resorting to biting at some loose clothing on Mccree's collar as the cowboy carried him away from the battle. By the time they got back to the ship, the collar was in shreds and Hanzo could barely function at all, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Jesse stepped into the plane and the door closed behind him. He set the bowman down in one of the seats and gently strapped him in before going to his own seat and sitting down. The ship lurched and they took off. Ana shambled wearily over to Hanzo and began treating him the best she could. Her medical skills weren't as expert and professional as Mercy's, but she seemed to know enough to keep him alive for at least until they got back to the Watchpoint.

Pharah gingerly hunkered down next to Mccree and removed her helmet. Ana had wrapped a bandage around her forehead, but a small trail of blood continued to leak continuously down her face and into her eye. She coughed and began to speak. "That didn't go according to plan, now did it?" she joked, sighing. No response. She leaned forward to get a better look at the solemn cowboy.

"Are you alright? It's not like you to be...well...quiet. At all," she pointed out. Still, Mccree didn't say a word. Pharah followed his eyes to her mother and Hanzo on the other side of the ship.

"Oh, I see. You're worried about him," she observed. Jesse nodded slowly. "So...what made him decide to join Overwatch? I thought he was some lone mercenary trying to redeem himself," Fareeha remarked.

"He was. But Genji visited him once, after he thought he'd killed him. I dunno what he said, but I reckon it was enough to convince him that he had a chance to do some good with his life," the cowboy theorized, looking down at the floor. Fareeha nodded.

"Ever since Hanzo got here, you've been a good friend to him. The rest of us were a bit harsh on him in the beginning, after Genji told us what he did. But you trusted him right off the bat and tried to find the good in him. That makes you a better person than I think you give yourself credit for, Jesse," Pharah praised, gripping his shoulder supportively. Mccree snorted.

"Eh, I ain't that great, really," he mumbled with a sad smile. He winced as Hanzo gave a sharp gasp of pain from across the ship.

"If you want me to do my job properly, you need to hold still," Ana scolded as she continued to work. Mccree leaned forward and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his index finger over his moustache anxiously. Pharah sighed and stood up.

"Don't worry yourself too hard, cowboy. He'll be fine," she assured him. She then walked to the other side of the ship to check on Tracer, leaving Jesse by himself. He watched her and the rest of the team discuss the failed mission from afar, and didn't move until Ana left Hanzo to join the conversation.

She'd torn his robes a bit in order to reach the wound, and now several layers of gauze wrapped his torso. The archer had finally fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. Jesse waited until he didn't think anyone was watching, then got up and approached him. He sat next to him and leaned back, staring at the ship's white ceiling.

Mccree closed his eyes and listened to Hanzo's raspy breathing, taking in the sweet scent of cherry blossoms that clung to him. Out of nowhere, a memory popped into his head.

Jesse had just returned to the Watchpoint with the rest of his team after a wildly successful mission; Winston had turned on some upbeat festival music and everyone was dancing and having a good time. However, someone seemed to be missing from the group.

Trying to think of where Hanzo could have run off to, the cowboy left the room and entered the deserted hallway. He made a beeline for Hanzo's quarters, but was disappointed to find it empty.

He was about to leave when, as a last-second thought, he peeked into the closet. There was Hanzo, sitting quietly on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes closed.

"You ok, darlin'?" Mccree had asked, entering the closet and sitting down next to him.

"I am fine, Cowman. I just...don't like people. Or loud things. I'm tired and am not in the mood to deal with stupid celebrations," he growled, not opening his eyes. Mccree smiled.

"Yeah...well...I reckon I could use a break too. Mind if I stay in here? You got a nice hideout for yourself," he asked. Hanzo sighed and gave a small smile.

"I suppose."

Mccree closed his eyes, letting peaceful darkness envelop him. He felt Hanzo rest his head on his shoulder and smiled.

Returning to the present, Jesse opened his eyes to find that, in his sleep, Hanzo had, just like in the closet, rested his head on Mcree's shoulder. The cowboy's heart warmed and he gently took the archer's hand in his own, closing his eyes once more and letting peaceful sleep envelop him.


End file.
